The Girl Who Survived
by Slytherin Buttercat
Summary: My name is Holly Lily Potter. On the 31 October, 1981, I was split up from my brother. Now that we are both going to Hogwarts, I will meet him again. He doesn't know who I am yet, but he will. The wizarding world will be talking about my storm for years to come. Rated T for language, eventual PWxOC
1. Prologue

**The Girl Who Survived**

 **Prologue**

 _ **Prompt; death**_

* * *

She was dressed in pink, a pair of pyjamas that were new. They were from her uncle Peter, a nice but nervous man. He was more interested in Harry for some reason, but that didn't mean he hated her.

Most of the others were more interested in Harry as he was younger; except from Sirius, her godfather. He doted on Harry for being an exact replica of James, his best mate, but she was the female version of them, even having the hazel eyes Harry lacked. The only difference was her hair actually was containable, with much taming; although it was not worth the effort. When she was in her natural form, anyway.

The night was All Hallow's Eve, a boring event for the siblings due to the protection they needed to be under. Why they needed to be under the protection was a mystery to her, although her father complained a lot of the time about it. She had even got in trouble once for using one of the words he regularly used, although how was she to know she shouldn't have said it? Exactly!

Lily sat near her, carefully speaking to her. "A big blue sky full of clouds."

"A big bwue s'y fu' o' cwouds."

"A yellow ball rolling down the hill."

She bit her lips in concentration, before repeating her mother's words. "A ye'ow ba' rowing dow' the hi'."

Lily smiled. The two year old was not the best at speaking, but for a toddler she was doing well. They regularly did exercises in the evening to develop her speaking skills, due to having nothing else to do. Sometimes, Harry joined in, although the one year old was only attuned to a few words. She could speak whole sentences! However, that only happened when Lily spoke them before her.

Behind them, James was making smoke spew out of his wand, much to the delight of his son, who was trying to catch the pretty swirls. He glanced at his wife, who smiled at him before turning to their daughter. "Holly is a happy baby," Lily stated to her daughter.

Her face screwed up in concentration. "I Ho'wey!" She exclaimed happily, clapping her hands.

"How would you say it?" Lily asked her daughter, resisting the temptation to hug her small girl.

"Ho'wey is a ha'y baby!"

Holly then yawned. "I think it's time for these two to go to sleep," Lily stated, and James nodded, reaching out to grab Harry, dropping his wand.

Without any warning, the door opened, and James dropped his son gently, flying out of the room. "Lily, it's him! Take Holly and Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

As they were pulled into their mum's arms, Holly glanced back, seeing a green light hit her father. He crumpled to the floor, and she thought he was playing a new game as she was placed in her cot, her mother screaming as she attempted to block the door with a rocking chair.

Maybe not.

The door blasted open and the chair splintered apart, the baby toys that lingered flying at the impact. A man in long black robes flew in, glancing at Harry like he was a piece of prey. Their mother stood in front of them, her arms spread wide as if to protect them from the man, looking like an angel in disguise.

"Not them, not Harry, not Holly... Please, not them, take anything but not their lives..."

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now!"

Holly perked up her head from where she sat in the crib, a curious expression on her face. Maybe this new man was playing a game with them? Maybe he was going to take them to get ice-cream...

"Not my children, please no, take me, kill me, kill me and not them, please!"

"This is my last warning-"

"Have mercy... Have mercy! Not Harry! Not Holly! I'll do anything, please!"

"Stand aside, girl. Stand aside!"

Stubbornly, Lily remained where she was. Green light flashed through the room again, hitting her mother in the chest and causing her to collapse. Maybe he wasn't taking them for ice-cream...

Harry had stood up, clutching the bars. Holly was watching her brother as the man stepped closer. In retort, Harry fell to his bottom, crying. Holly resumed the position her brother had, frowning at the man who had hurt her parents.

Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the bar tight, staring at the man. "Why?" She asked him, and he looked surprised at the question.

"For power," he said, turning to her brother again. "It wouldn't do for mine to be taken away, not after I've gotten so close to winning. It's best if we eliminate your brother now. You'll understand that one day, after being raised by my minions. The child of the Potter's on my side. That would destroy them all..."

"All?" Holly repeated, a glint in her eye.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The older sibling was closer to him as he cast the killing curse on her brother. The light hit her brother, then ricocheted off his forehead and struck the man. A dark presence whooshed through the room, and struck her in the heart where she collapsed with exhaustion.

.-.

Dylan Winters was a perfectly normal man. Once, he would have been reluctant to admit it, but now he embraced it. His sister had died for the others, trying to defeat the terrorist who threatened their lives. That terrorist threatened everyone's life though, and her attempts to defeat him had gone to waste. She died at the hands of one of his servants, just for being a Muggle-born Gryffindor...

He didn't have a job, not yet. He had tried to look for one, but had failed. He was thinking about moving to France anyway: his parents money would permit it. He had been interested in that country for as long as he could remember, and his mother was French so he knew the language well enough.

His day was spent shopping: for as long as he could remember he loved the satisfaction of buying something new. Anything that looked good went straight in to his bag, after he bought it of course.

When he left one shop he saw an owl fly over his head. Watching it, he didn't realise he stumbled into the middle of an odd group. All of them were wearing cloaks, and he could only think of his sister's lot.

"Sorry," he muttered sombrely, but the people he bumped in to were smiling still.

"It's alright!" One man exclaimed.

"Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating news as good as this!"

"What news?" Dylan asked, and the wizards- he decided that was who they were- looked quite shocked.

"Haven't you heard? He-who-must-not-be-named has been defeated!"

"By who?"

"Little Harry Potter!"

"Potter? Is he a relation of James and Lily Potter?"

They looked at him like he had grown two heads. "How did you know that?"

"My sister was one of you. Was he?"

They nodded, adding, "they died."

Dylan left them. Wizards were strange. Celebrating the deaths of two of their kind was too absurd for him to get his Muggle-y head around...

Later that night, he was watching his television when a feeble knock was heard on his door. Warily, he opened it, to find a toddler looking up at him. "Hello," he smiled as he crouched down to face the small girl. "Who are you?"

.-.

He was down a street, waiting for the large man with the bike. Beside him was a woman, who decidedly hated this whole affair. "Need we split them up?" She questioned, her voice begging him to say no. "They should be together! The last of the Potter's!"

"It's better if Harry was raised alone," the man stated, twirling his beard. "The girl-"

"-Holly, Albus!"

"-needn't distract him."

"Harry was gurgling all the way to their house. Doesn't that prove he would be the distraction?"

"Ah, Hagrid is coming!"

They watched as the man landed for the second time, a small pink bundle in the side car. Before, it had curled up with a blue bundle, but it was now alone.

"Did she arrive well?"

A short nod. He was still crying.

Albus reached in to the car, and brought out the young girl. She squirmed in his arms, blinking open her eyes for the first time since the man was eliminated. "Ha'wey?" She questioned, staring up at them with her hazel eyes.

"Harry isn't here..."

"Wha'?" The toddler demanded, her hair turning a bright red as she stared up at this old man.

"He's still alive," he reassured, unfazed by her hair change.

"She's a metamorphagus? And you didn't tell the order?"

"No need for the order now, Minerva dear... Not until he is back."

"You are certain he will be back, Albus."

"You are certain you don't want to join in on the festivities."

"There is nothing to celebrate, old man."

Albus hummed softly to himself, the little girl joining in after a few moments. "Wha' now?" She asked.

"There's a nice Muggle here; Dylan Winters. He never had the chance to go to Hogwarts, whilst his sister did. You would stay with him."

"I's bes' if I s'ay wi'h Mugg'e?"

The old man nodded sombrely.

"Pa'foo?"

"We aren't sure where he is," the old man lied.

"Down!" She ordered, and Albus set her on the floor.

Unsteadily, she toddled over to the door that Dylan Winters lived at. The adults remained behind her, Hagrid sobbing. "I knock?"

Albus nodded as her knuckles rapped on the door. She could hear bolts unlocking as Albus stood beside her, his knees towering over her. A pair of knees met her eyes, and she smiled as the form crouched to meet her. "Hello," it smiled warmly. "Who are you?"

"I-I Ho'wey."

"Holly?"

She nodded timidly. "That's a lovely name. May I ask why you are here, Holly?"

"Bad man hurted pawents. Pawents gone."

"Who were your parents, Holly?"

"James and Liwy Potter. They-they gone..."

The man slowly made his arms snake around her. "My sister has gone too. She was like your parents. Fighting against that man who hurt your parents. One of his allies hurt her."

Her own arms snaked around the man, a small flurry of tears flowing out of her eyes. "I so'wey. Lywa?"

"Lyra?" He retorted.

"Lywa Win'ers? Your sis'er?"

He nodded. "Mama knew her."

Slowly, the three elders walked away, leaving the young man and the toddler bond over lost family members. "They tooked my bwother," Holly sobbed as they parted, the large man on the bike and the old man and lady disappearing into thin air.

"Dumbles- he took my sister. Away to a school, far away from me. I barely ever saw her again."

"Du'bles?" She questioned. "Ol' man?"

He nodded.

"I hate him."

* * *

 **Word Count; 1878**

 **Holly may speak more than the average toddler, but I believe that magical children would speak more than Muggle children.**

 **~Buttercat**


	2. Chapter One- A Quartet Of Blondes

**The Girl Who Survived**

 **Chapter One; A Quartet Of Blondes (Almost)**

 _ **Prompt; Goblins**_

* * *

 **Firstly, I am not French, so if I got something wrong please tell me so I can cry, and fix it. Secondly, here is the first chapter, sorry it took so long.**

* * *

"Dylan!" I called down the stairs. I paused when I got to the creaky stair and jumped over it. "Ton chien a mangé my knickers again!"

I occasionally wavered from French to English as I wasn't used to living, breathing and speaking English yet. I have lived in France for the past eight years with Dylan Winters, my older 'brother'. He told me all about what my life in England would be like when I reached the age eleven- but my birthday was yesterday, so I reckoned that I didn't have to live like and I could stay with him...

 _Maybe_ not.

When I jumped down the last step I was faced with a black-haired lady. "My apologises- apologies- madame. I 'ad not realised you would be 'ere."

I turned to Dylan. "Your ladies- zis one is a _bit_ old for you, non?"

"If you wait, mon petit chaton, the answer will come to you."

"Mais mon grand chat, it is- _ah-_ annoying, non, to wait?"

Although we both lived in France for eight years, he still had his English accent. As I was younger when we moved, I was more able to adapt to the accent, and it lingered on my voice. I liked my accent, it made me unique in this English country.

"It may be annoying to wait, ma sœur, but it is rewarding."

"Bonjour, madame. I do not believe we 'ave met? Je suis Holly Potter. What 'ave you got to do with mon frère?"

The lady chuckled, but I couldn't remember doing anything funny. The funniest thing I have said lately was this really good joke the other day...

"I haven't got anything to do with your brother, wee lassie," the lady had a strong Scottish accent. "It's _you_ I need to talk to."

"Is this about Dumbles?" I turned to Dylan. "Is she 'ere to tell me to stop- oh!" I spun around to face the lady. "You is- I mean, you are, _sorry_ Dylan- a day late, I'm afraid, madame. Mon anniversaire was hier- yesterday."

"My apologies, Miss Potter, but I could not make it yesterday. The school restarts on the first of September and I had to be there..."

"You are, _ah,_ forgiven? Is zat ze word? Ah, I do not care."

"That is not the spirit you should have at school."

"I do not! Not at l'ècole."

I turned back to Dylan. "Now ze Professor 'as been 'ere, may we return to France so I can complete one last year at la college?"

"Professor Dumbledore said-"

"I do _not_ care what 'e said, madame. 'E took mon frère from me- please do not tell 'im I know. It will only cause more problems, after all."

"He-"

"Minerva, I am sorry but you must leave now."

The lady sighed. "I will send you a letter regarding the details to throw Albus off. He wouldn't need to know this. Goodbye, Dylan."

"Au revoir," I called cheerily.

The lady left. "Mon grand chat, I is- _sorry,_ am- confused. We will go back to France now, right?"

He nodded.

.-.

It was a few days later when I found a letter addressed to me in green writing.

 _Miss H. Winters_

I wondered how it had reached me without an address, but I wasn't going to complain. Eagerly, I opened it, noting the fact it was Winters and not Potter.

 _Holly Potter,_

 _Sorry about the title at the front. Professor Dumbledore thinks that you think you are actually a Winters, not Potter._

 _Hogwarts is a school in Scotland for people just like you. There will people born to Muggle's- non magical people- there. You are a half-blood, born to a Muggle-born and Pureblood._

 _You will be going shopping with the some Muggle-borns in the summer._

 _That is all. Stay safe, young child._

 _Minerva McGonagall_

I stashed it into my pocket as I stared out of a window. Amelie the dog was on my lap, chewing on Merlin knows what. "What is zat, Amelie?" I asked in English, stroking my dog's ear.

A soggy ball of feathers was spat out of her mouth, and I shrieked. "Dylan!" I screamed. "Ton chien a pris a bird!"

Amelie's face fell as she realised I didn't like her prize. Finally, Dylan raced into the room, a baseball bat in his hands.

"What happened?" He questioned, looking between me, Amelie and the mess on the floor.

"She-bird-ew!" I declared.

He narrowed his blue eyes at me. "Is that it?"

"Is zat it?" I was incredulous. "Zat is ze worst ting she 'as done! Worse zan ze knickers elle a mangé! C'est tout?"

He stared at me, before rugby-tackling me on to my bed. "Non!" I cried as he began tickling me.

.-.

We had returned to England a few days prior to getting another letter. "Again?" I moaned, but it was only half-heartedly as I tore open the envelope greedily.

 _Miss H. Potter,_

 _I am writing to tell you that a shopping trip is being arranged for the Muggle-borns, and you are invited. It is on the thirty-first of July, and I hope you can make it._

 _Minerva McGonagall_

"Mon frère!" I called, and Dylan raced into the room, a feather duster in his hand.

"What?" He asked as I sniggered.

"Sorry. You look très nice."

"What did you want, Holly?" He sighed, glaring at me.

"Shopping trip, soon. Directions and stuff on zis letter."

I chucked the parchment- _parchment? Was this the olden days?_ \- at him. He rolled his eyes at me, picking up the parchment. "Child," he mumbled, glancing down the list.

.-.

"Are you _certain_ zis is ze place?" I questioned, looking down the street.

"Yes," he replied.

"Doesn't seem like it."

He stuck his tongue out at me. "Child," I muttered, before spotting a girl my age with her father.

I dragged Dylan over to them, and he scowled at me. "Bonjour!" I exclaimed. "I am Holly. Who are you?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, and this is my father, Dr Granger. Are you a-"

"Oui," I interrupted, knowing what she was going to say. "I am."

"Do you know where-"

"Non. I was 'oping you did."

"No," Hermione sighed.

"She's over there!" Dylan pointed out suddenly, turning me around to face a black-haired lady with two children following her.

"I will leave Hermione here with you," Dr Granger said. "I need to get back to the practice."

"Of course," the professor replied.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her father. "I'll see you later," she sniffed.

"Do you want me to leave you too, Holly?" Dylan asked me.

"Oui, mais Professor McGonagall may need you to help her with ze others."

"Totally not you as well."

I was older than all of the others. I did _not_ need any help.

I turned my back on him, turning to face the dark boy behind Minerva. "Bonjour! I am Holly! Who are you?"

"Dean," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"C'est- it's, ah, nice to meet you."

"And you."

Dylan was talking to another boy. "I was supposed to go Eton," the boy smiled.

"I went to a public school in Sussex," Dylan smirked. "It was alright."

"You're not-"

"No."

"Then why do you look less startled about this whole affair than most people?"

That was Hermione.

Dylan looked rather like a damsel in distress, so like a knight I leapt to his defence. "Dylan 'ad une sœur- a sister- who was a witch."

"What is Dylan to you, then?" That was Dean.

"Um-" I hesitated. "Well, ah- he is no relation of mine."

"Where are your parents?" The boy that had been interrogating Dylan asked me.

"Dead."

They shut up after that.

"Right then!" Minerva declared after the seemingly long awkward pause. "Follow me."

We obeyed her as she led us over to a record shop, a pub and a bookshop. "The Leaky Cauldron is a famous place," Minerva nodded to the pub.

I glanced at Dylan. "You need to direct me into it," he whispered into my ear. "There's a Muggle repellent on the pub so we can't see it."

"Zat's-"

He elbowed me, and I grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the pub. "Zis is ridiculous," I muttered, and he smirked.

We met up with the others. "There will be a bank we are going to, have you got the money?"

"Nous avons no money. Why?"

"Ah, Holly, you have a vault."

"A vault?"

She nodded. I narrowed my eyes. Why did I have a vault, and not the others?

Oh. They didn't have magical parents...

There was a crowd near the door, in the centre of the pub. A massive head loomed over it, and Dylan paled as he spotted whatever was going on. I stepped on the tip of my toes, trying to get a glimpse of what they were seeing, but before I could someone stupid steered me away. "Quel?"

Dylan just narrowed his blue eyes at me. "Ton frère ne fais pas who you are."

"Oh."

I wondered if Dylan noticed he just said 'your brother do not who you are'. Probably not...

"But-"

He dragged me out of the back door. We were faced with a brick wall. Quizzically, I stared at the Professor. "Watch this," she instructed, pulling out a stick- wand?- and tapping a specific brick. "To do that you need something magical."

The walls opened up to reveal the street. My mouth dropped open in amazement: I had developed Dylan's love for shopping. Squealing, I walked beside Hermione, who was turning her head around to look at everything. "This is gorgeous," she breathed.

"I know right?" I whispered lovingly, my hair turning a deep pink.

"Your hair- it changed," the boy I still didn't know the name of whispered fearfully.

"Oh, oui. I am a, uh-"

"-metamorphagus," Professor McGonagall answered for me. "We are here."

I looked up and gasped when I spotted a gorgeous building in front of me. "Zis is parfait. Dylan, look!"

Violently, I poked him. He hit me as we walked in to the shop. I nodded to a goblin guard as we wandered past it, and it regarded me curiously. As we ventured in to the main part of the bank, I realised it was a goblin I greeted as I spotted the others. "Fils de pute!" I exclaimed loudly.

"Holly," Dylan scolded my language.

"Tais-toi," I retorted. "You said _nothing_ about goblins!"

"What?" Hermione questioned from my side, wondering what I said.

"No worries."

"Can you teach me French one day?" The girl asked suddenly. "I want to learn everything I can at Hogwarts. I fear I won't be good enough, though..."

Minerva beckoned me over to her. "We would like to access Miss Potter's vault."

"Key?" The goblin asked.

"No, I was hoping you would do it the other way."

"Stick your finger out."

I complied. Gleefully, the goblin jabbed a needle at me, and I winced. It pushed the finger on to a piece of parchment, and my blood was smeared on to it. The blood was absorbed, and writing appeared in red. I had a feeling that it was my blood...

 _ **Name; Holly Lily Potter**_

 _ **Age; Eleven**_

 _ **Birthdate; Saturday, First of September, 1979**_

 _ **Magical Abilities; Metamorphagus**_

 _ **Status; Half-blood**_

 _ **Father; James Fleamont Potter**_

 _ **\- Fleamont Harold Potter**_

 _ **\- Euphemia Elizabeth Potter, née Macmillan**_

 _ **Mother; Lily Annabelle Evans**_

 _ **\- Unknown, Muggle**_

 _ **\- Unknown, Muggle**_

 _ **Brother; Harry James Potter**_

 _ **Access to the Potter and Black vaults when she reaches age. Access to the Potter trust fund.**_

Blinking, I muttered, _"whoa."_

The goblin sneered. "You can keep the parchment."

He called to another goblin, who led us over to a cart.

I had raised my hands and whooped as we went on this roller coaster of joy. Professor looked pale, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge. When we stopped, she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank _Merlin_ that's over," she muttered.

I did a twirl as the goblin opened the vault. As the contents came into my view, my jaws dropped open. Piles of bronze coins, mountains of silver coins, abundances of gold coins.

The professor began grabbing coins and placing them into a leather pouch. My feet carried me over to an elegant table, with a beautiful jewellery box on it. However, I wasn't drawn to those pretty things: I was drawn to the framed picture in the middle of the table.

Subconsciously, I picked it up, my body re-forming itself to match the lady's in the picture. The professor turned around at that moment, and when she saw me she let out a small sob.

"Desolè. I did not-"

"It's okay, Hol-"

Just then, a giant man entered the vault, a small boy following him. My shock caused me to reflect the looks of my other parent. My brother was right there. I could almost touch-

"Come on, Miss, uh, Winters," Professor McGonagall ordered, and I followed her, whining a little.

The cart ride back wasn't nearly as fun as the ride there. Spotting Dylan, I rushed into his arms, and he jumped back a little. "You okay, Hols?"

"Y-yes," my voice was shaky. "Oui, je suis bien. Je suis parfait."

I liked to hide behind another language. Less people to understand the truth behind my lies.

"Are you sure?"

"Positif."

.-.

The bank was behind us now. We had gone shopping for quills, ink and parchment. I couldn't resist buying this beautiful eagle-feather quill, or ink that changes with your mood. I was tempted to buy colour-changing parchment, but I was talked out of it by Hermione.

The apothecary smelt like rotten eggs, but it was worth going in there. Everything was beautiful, and I was glancing at a unicorn horn as Professor McGonagall bought four First-years ingredient kits. Dylan had gotten a plastic bag out of his pocket and it disintegrated. He had learnt his lesson, and was clutching a paper bag that Professor had conjured to him as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it _did?_

The next stop was a cauldron. It was a shame we were only allowed pewter cauldrons, as gold was such a pretty metal...

Then, we got the robes. In the robe shop, we were led to the back, where we snatched the end of a conversation. A boy was saying something about the other kind being bad blood, or something. I wasn't listening. "What's your surname, anyway?"

But another voice didn't answer, as some lady told them they were done.

A few seconds later, a familiar face passed us. His face was morose. I cracked my fingers.

"'Ow about I kill 'im for you?" I asked the boy cheerfully.

"What?"

"Maybe not..."

"Okay," the lady whispered. "Who here is not a Muggle-born?"

"Ah, zat would be moi."

I followed the lady out to the back, where a platinum blonde boy was getting prodded.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Bonjour, Blondie!"

"Blondie?"

"Tu es blond, oui?"

The lady measured me. "No one has called me Blondie before. Who do you think you are?"

"I tink I am Holly."

"Holly who?"

My eyes glazed over. "Wouldn't you like to know."

The boy was sent on his way, and was soon replaced by a nervous sandy-blond. "Bonjour!"

He looked at me nervously. "H-hello."

"I do not bite. Maybe."

He chuckled slightly, but his laughter didn't meet his eyes. "I am Holly. Who are you?"

"Ne-Neville Longbottom."

"Zat is such a cool name. I wish my last name was Longbottom."

"What is your last name?"

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin stated, handing me my new school robes.

"Madame, could you add a charm on to zese robes that allows zem to grow with you?"

She nodded, saying, "it would be an extra few Galleons though."

"I can afford."

I pulled out my leather pouch and handed her the required amount.

"Goodbye, Neville," I smiled. "I 'ope to see you at 'Ogwarts."

"Goodbye, Holly."

I walked outside to where Dylan was waiting. "Mon cher," I greeted.

"Mon petit ange," he replied, holding an arm out.

I grabbed it as we did more shopping. Soon enough, the only thing we had left to buy was a wand. The other three had been paired with their wands, and only I was left. "Ah, Miss Potter."

"Monsieur Ollivander," I retorted, nodding my head at him.

"Not long ago your mother was in here, buying her own wand."

"Can I ask a question?" I interrupted his soliloquy.

"Of course."

"'Ow did you know c'était moi?"

"The wards detect metamorphagi and reveal their true forms."

He handed me a mirror, and I peered into it. I marvelled at my dark hair, my light brown skin, and my hazel eyes. "Eh. Je suis très jolie."

"I am going to pretend that I understood that," the old man muttered, peering at me with his misty eyes. "Now, which hand is your wand hand?"

"My right."

"Hold it out, now," he ordered, and I obeyed. "Every Ollivander wand contains one of three cores. I believe those wands are more powerful than others. Now, try this wand. Twelve inches, oak, dragon heartstring."

Apparently, it was a poor match, because he snatched the wand back before it even touched my hand. "Maybe not. How about yew, dragon heartstring, eleven and a half inches."

My fingers briefly lingered over that one before he took it back. "Definitely not."

I muttered a string of French curses under my breath.

"Maybe this one; Oak, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches."

That one was also awful, and we spent forever trying to get a wand to choose me as its witch. Most of them being dragon heartstring, I noticed a distinct lack in unicorn hair wands in the pile of discarded wands; I think they were more suited to loyal people. A number of phoenix feather wands had been tested, but they were also of a small majority. "How about this wand, then? Made of holly and phoenix feather, it's eleven inches long."

I reached out to grab it, just wanting the whole process to be over already. When my hand touched it, a warmth spread over my body, and green and silver sparks shot out the end of the wand eagerly. "Curious, very curious..."

"What is curious, Monsieur Ollivander?"

"I have no doubt that you will do great things with that wand, Miss Potter. However, the phoenix that gave that feather gave one other feather."

"And zat is special because..?"

"That wand is the wand that gave your brother his scar..."

I just blinked. "So, my wand is the brother of You-Know-Who's wand?"

The old man nodded. A bell ringed, and two people crowded into the shop. One was taller than tall, around eight feet in height. The other was smaller than myself. "You're the boy I offered to kill someone for," I went over to him, a wide grin on my lips.

"You don't look like that girl..."

"I 'ave magic abilities beyond yours, Monsieur."

"What do you mean?"

"I can change my appearance at will. You, 'owever, cannot."

"How do you know that?" He got very defensive all of a sudden.

"I tink ze wizarding world would know if its, ah, sensation was a metamorphagus. Good day, Monsieur Potter."

I turned away from my biological brother, my heart thumping in my chest. "Wait a minute," he called after me. "What's your name?"

"My name? C'est Holly. And non, I did not offer to kill Blondie just because you are ze 'ero of Britain. I offered to kill Blondie as he's a class-a branleur."

"Holly Lily- uh, Winters!" Dylan scolded.

I pushed out of the shop, as the giant with Harry glared at me. I had a feeling massive man did not like me conversing with my brother. Maybe Dumbledore forbid him from letting Harry talk to me? If so, why did they let the unreliable giant look after my brother? He wasn't doing a very good job...

"Was that your brother?" Hermione asked me lightly.

"Eh," I shrugged.

* * *

 _Ton chein a mangé- your dog ate_

 _Mon petit chaton- my little kitten_

 _Mon grand chat- my big cat_

 _Ma sœur- my sister_

 _Je suis- I am_

 _Mon frère- my brother_

 _Mon anniversaire- my birthday_

 _Ton chien a pris- your dog took_

 _Elle a mangé- she ate_

 _C'est tout- is that it_

 _Très- very_

 _Mais- but_

 _Nous avons- we have_

 _Quel- what_

 _Fils de pute- son of a bitch_

 _Tais-toi- be quiet_

 _Desolè- sorry_

 _Je suis- bien- I am well_

 _Je suis- parfait- I am perfect_

 _Tu es- you are_

 _Mon cher- my dear/ darling_

 _Mon petit ange- my little angel_

 _C'était moi- it was me_

 _Je suis- très jolie- I am very pretty_

 _Branleur- wanker_

* * *

 **like I said, I am not French, so most of that was guessed. I looked up terms of endearment, and stuff, as well.**

 **I had fun writing this, it was entertaining, although it took longer than expected due to writers block. However, I have already completed chapter 2, and I am a quarter of the way through chapter 3, so it will be less delays now.**

 **~Buttercat**


	3. Chapter Two- The Red Train

**Chapter Two**

 **The Red Train**

 **Prompt; Careful Is My Middle Name**

The first part of my birthday was spent rushing to pack everything that I owned. Then, as Dylan told me I could not bring all of my shoes, I sulked in the back of his car, next to my trunk and cauldron. I watched as Dylan drove, his face screwed up in concentration. I was, admittedly, so excited I was already in my robes: I was finally amongst my own people.

Well, not quite yet. But I would be, and oh boy would the wizarding world be talking about my storm for years...

The second part was in a train station, ten thirty, saying goodbye to Dylan. I would not be seeing him for ten months, and do you know what he said? "Be careful, Holly."

"Careful is my middle name," I stated.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Surprise Dumbledore and change the world for the better, Darling," I muttered, my voice deep, mimicking him.

"Yea, do that too."

"Will do," I leant up and kissed him on the cheek. "Au revoir, Dylan."

"Goodbye, Holly."

He left me alone to try and find the magical barrier into my new world. I hated him for it. "Every year is the same!" A female voice carried over to me. "Always packed with Muggles!"

I wandered over to the family of red-heads, feeling as if something suspicious was up with them. "Excuse me if I am rude, madame, mais I thought zat it was against ze Statute of Secrecy to talk about things like zat."

"Well-"

"You were trying to get ze attention of a certain someone, weren't you?"

"Well-"

"Eh. 'Ow do you get onto Platform nine et three quarters?"

I glanced at the rest of the family. A young girl clutched on to her mother's arm, glancing at me like I was something special. Maybe I was? A tall red-head around my age was glaring at me, probably annoyed that I contradicted his obviously pureblood mother. Twin boys were sizing me up, either appreciation or anger evident in their gazes. The fifth, another tall red-head with a prefect badge on his jumper, regarded me carefully, probably proud a twelve year old was following the rules. "Of course, dear," I wondered how that answered my question. "Ron here is in his first year too."

That was also not helpful. The Ron stared at me with hatred in his eyes. "Ah," I said, "I am Holly."

"Holly who?" The boy asked.

"'Ow do you get on to ze platform again?"

"You run at the ticket barrier. Percy, why don't you go with her? And be careful."

"Careful is my middle name," I mumbled, much to the twins delight.

The prefect nodded to me, and I nodded back, indicating we should run now. Our movements were in sync as we ran through the magical gate and into the platform we needed. "Are you okay, Holly?" He asked me kindly, his eyes drifting to my pastel hair.

"Je suis bien, merci," I replied.

"Is your hair appropriate for school?" He questioned, glancing at my purple locks again.

"I checked ze Hogwarts rule book, monsieur. Ze book only said zat you cannot comment on ze 'air colour of another."

Percy smiled at me appreciatively. "It's good that someone knows the rules," he replied as the twins burst through, identical smirks on their faces. "Someone has to..."

"Goodbye, Percy!" I waved as I spotted someone I knew.

"Bye, Holly!"

"Who was that?" Hermione quizzed as I pushed my trolley over her.

"Zat was Percy."

"Why did you never tell me you were the sibling of-"

"Hermione, dear, we do not talk about zat in public."

The bushy-haired girl groaned, before grabbing my wrist and dragging me off to a compartment. After helping me lift my stuff into my trunk, she pushed me into the seat closest to the door. She seemed oblivious to the fact that someone else was in the compartment. "Explain," she demanded.

"Hi, Neville Longbottom," I greeted the sandy-haired boy.

"Hi, Holly," the boy replied.

"Holly," Hermione said dangerously, and I briefly wondered why I wanted to be friends with her. "If you don't answer me I will hit you with my book."

"Book abuse," I muttered.

"Holly! Why didn't you tell me that your brother was the Harry Potter?"

"How'd you figure zat one out?"

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, before pulling out a book from her trunk. "Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, beat the latest Dark Lord when he was a one year old. It is rumoured that he has a sister, Holly Lily Potter, but when questioned Albus Dumbledore rejected all claims."

"Holly Potter?" Neville questioned. "Dumbledore told us you died."

"Well isn't zat lovely," I smiled. "Dumbledore said it, so it must be true."

The silence lasted a few seconds. Then; "I used to think he was a good guy, you know."

Both Neville and I turned to face Hermione. "But if he split you and your brother up, he must be bad."

I nodded. "Let's play twenty questions! Moi first! What 'ouse do you tink you'll be in?"

"My g-gran wants me to be in Gryffindor," Neville nervously stated.

"I tink you could make it, Neville!"

They turned to stare at me. I grinned. "After a lot of," I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration, "thought, I decided I would probably be in Slyzerin. Je suis assez, uh, ambition-ous?-, et I 'ave always been sly."

"But Slytherin's-"

"-'ave a bad reputation? I know. Zat's why I want to make it better."

Silence again. I always had that effect. It was due to my beauty, I knew it. "I would follow you on your path to greatness," Hermione stated. "Have any of you learnt the set books off by heart? I have, but I'm not entirely sure it will be enough."

"I read some of the books twice. Others, once. I think I read one of them three times..."

Neville blanched. "I read them once," he confessed. "How did you feel about Herbology?"

We got to the eleventh question before we were disrupted. The compartment door opened to reveal a lady with food. "Anything of the trolley, dears?"

Neville's toad must have disliked that idea, as he bounced out. "Oh no," he groaned. "That's the fifth time I've lost him today."

He left, a sad expression on his face. "Maybe we should have offered to help," Hermione muttered after a slight pause.

"If 'e comes back," I suggested, and the dark girl nodded, understanding what I was getting at.

Just then, our compartment opened, a red-headed prefect at the door. "Bonjour, Percy," I greeted him, smiling.

"Hello, Holly, um-"

"Hermione," the witch introduced, holding her hand out for him to shake.

"Hello, Hermione. I was wondering which rule book you found the hair-colour rule in, Holly. It could be helpful..."

I understood what he was getting to. People must be asses to him about his hair colour all the time.

Rummaging around my trunk, I hit my hand on several sharp things, including a quill, before finding the book I was looking for. "It's ze first ever rule book," I stated gently, smiling at him. "Well, not ze first ever- I tink it's ze fourth edition, but..."

"You're bleeding," he declared, and I looked at my hand cautiously.

A small welling of blood had escaped from a minuscule hole in the palm of my hand. I winced, deciding that the sight of blood wasn't my cup of tea. "I can heal it," the red-headed boy decided, glancing at me for approval.

I nodded, and he pointed his wand at my wound, muttering a spell. I watched the skin come together, realising it was probably what people witnessed when I changed. "Merci beaucoup," I grinned, coming to respect this strict prefect.

I wondered if he would still like me if I was a Slytherin. Finding myself contemplating being a red-house-person like he was, I shook myself out of my stupor. "You can keep ze book, Percy. I know it all already."

He smiled at me, and butterflies rose in my stomach. I grinned back like a mad witch, as he excused himself. "Are you okay, Holly?" Hermione asked me, sounding concerned.

Why was she concerned? I was fine. Of course I felt fine! "Il était parfait," I whispered, then promptly blushed.

"You know he is, like, four years older than you, right?"

"I don't care," I declared steadily.

"Just be careful, Holly," Hermione muttered.

"Careful is my middle name."

Just then, Neville returned. "I can't find him," he moaned, eyes wide with fear and sadness.

"We'll help!" Hermione and I exclaimed at the same time, then giggled as we looked at each other.

Trevor the Toad was practically impossible to find. It took ages to find him, although not before we visited a certain compartment that stuck in my mind.

Hermione stopped outside it. "They look friendly," she lied, before dragging us in, despite Neville's claims that he had already asked the people in this compartment.

The red-head Ron held his wand at the poor, defenceless, oddly familiar rat. He looked like he was about to perform a spell, until he looked over at us. "'ave you seen a toad?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the boy's battered wand, placing my hand into my robe pocket to feel my own wand.

"Neville has lost his," Hermione added, her own eyes showing disgust at the boys wand.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it!" Ron growled, sounding rather exasperated.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

Hermione sat down. Neville and I turned to face each other. His face clearly said 'what is she doing?'. I shrugged, lightly, as the red-head looked taken aback. "She'll learn not to surprise idiots," I whispered lightly, so no one else but Neville could hear me.

He chuckled gently, but watched the scene apprehensively.

"Er- all right," the boy said, before clearing his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand around wildly, and the rat, unsurprisingly, remained the same.

"Are you sure that is a real spell?" Hermione asked, and I tried to stop myself from bursting out with laughter. Having spotted my facial expression, Neville rested a hand on my shoulder, as Hermione continued. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard- I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all of that rather fast, and I blinked. As far as I knew, that speed was impossible to humans. Apparently not...

"I'm Ron Weasley," Percy's brother muttered, and I realised that he didn't hold much pride on his family name.

"Harry Potter."

I gasped. So did Neville. Hermione didn't- so that was why she came in here. I knew something was fishy...

"I am Holly, and zis is, as you know, Neville Longbottom."

"Why aren't you-"

I cut off Neville with a perfectly timed punch, and as he turned to glare at me I smiled sweetly. "You!" Ron growled, narrowing his eyes at me. "You're the girl who thought it was okay to tell my mum what to do!"

"Would you rather it me, Freckles, or ze ministry?"

He hesitated. "Well-"

"Exactly."

Harry stared at me, fear or admiration in his eyes. "We meet again, Harry Potter."

Hermione's face was screwed up in concentration. "Are you really Harry Potter?" She asked. "I know all about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

The poor boy looked rather dazed. "Am I?" He questioned, glancing at me as if I would have the answer.

I didn't, but that was how my little brother should be looking at me. For help. "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything if it was me," said Hermione, "like if I had a sister called Holly or not." I groaned as the dark girl slipped that in, but no one else, apart from Neville, noticed it. I _had_ a plan! "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I hope I'm in Slytherin, it's by far the best, did you know Merlin was in that house? Of course, Ravenclaw wouldn't be that bad, but I want to prove that Muggle-borns can be Slytherin's. Well, I suppose we better look for Neville's toad, Trevor is very important to him, you see. You two had better change, unless you want to make a fool of yourself."

She left, leaving us to follow her mindlessly. Turning to Neville, I shrugged, before we followed her down the compartments and into the ones we hadn't checked.

A compartment full of prefects lay at the front of the train. "Hello," I commented, "'ave any of you seen a toad. We 'ave lost one, you see, et we were wondering if you knew where 'e was."

"No, sorry," a Ravenclaw replied.

"Have you tried anywhere else, Holly?" Percy asked.

"Oui, but they 'adn't seen 'im either. You were our last chance..."

"I'm sure he'll turn up," the Ravenclaw smiled from where she was sitting next to Percy.

Turning around, I ushered my friends out of the compartment. "Well, that sucked," I stated lightly.

"I'll catch up," Hermione stated. "Going to talk to the train driver."

We nodded, before going back to our compartment. "Did you know your mother was my godmother?" I asked him lightly.

He nodded, his eyes going blank, his face becoming an expressionless mask. "Did you know that your mother was mine?"

I nodded. "So you understand that both of us have neither mother or godmother?"

I looked up sharply, but Neville wouldn't say anymore.

The train finally stopped, and we left, piling out of the doors like we were clothes in a laundry basket. I shivered in the darkness, blinking, wrapping my robe closer to my body to avoid the cold air. My grip on Hermione and Neville's arms grew tighter, until a light came bobbing over our heads, a cure to my phobia. "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Alright there, Harry?"

How was it fair that the giant was on first name basis with my brother before I was? After all, I had known him all of his life; I have vague memories of his rather grotesque birth...

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, we followed the man down what was a deep, narrow path. I clutched Hermione's arm as Neville sniffed. The dark was never my strong point, and I felt enclosed by the thick trees that lay either side of us. It was rather quiet, with no one really speaking. Occasionally, Hermione whispered words of encouragement, but nothing more.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man called over his large shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

The narrow path opened and I sighed in relief. We were suddenly on the edge of a great black lake, and I liked the sea. Perched on top of a high mountain on the other side of the beautiful lake was a vast castle with many turrets and towers, its windows sparkling bright due to the starry sky. I would admit that in my awe-struck state I let out an 'ooooh!' that joined in a chorus with others just like it. It was rather embarrassing, if I was honest.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Hermione, Neville and I sat in a boat together, the wizard sniffing to himself still at the loss of his toad and the witch muttering under her breath facts about the school. It was rather amusing.

"Everyone in?" The man asked rather loudly. I noticed he had a boat all to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

The board all moved at once, gliding across the lake effortlessly as if it were as smooth as glass. Most people were staring up at the castle ahead, but my eyes were transfixed to my lap. The castle seemed to tower over us as we sailed closer to it.

"Heads down!" The man yelled as the first boats reached the cliff.

Everyone else bent their heads like I was already doing. The small boats carried us through a curtain of ivy which hid an opening in the cliff face, and they were taken down a dark tunnel that seemed to be taking them underneath the castle. Neville became victim to my tight, fear-filled grasp that claimed his arm. We reached an underground harbour where we climbed out on to the rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" The blonde-haired boy cried blissfully, whilst I chuckled, holding out his hands for his pet.

I walked beside Hermione and Neville as we clambered up a passageway. Finally, we made it to the damp grass in the shadow of the castle. After walking up a flight of stairs, we crowded around a huge, oak front door. Both Neville's and Hermione's breaths were raspy as they tried to gather themselves. I got the impression they weren't very active.

On the other hand, I was extremely active. I used to do running every morning; I still do. I could swim faster than a fish- well, _maybe_ not, but almost.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

The man raised a gigantic fist that seemed like the size of my head, and knocked three times in the castle door.

* * *

 **Word Count: 3015**

* * *

 _Je suis bien- I am well_

* * *

 **I honestly ship Holly with Percy too much and I know most people dislike him oops.**

 **Explanation to quick friendships next chapter.**

 **I'm still not French so feel free to correct anything.**

 **~Buttercat**


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